Page 51 of Mine to Protect

I eyed Chandler, who nodded in agreement. “Listen, Birdie. I have a feeling your boss suspended you for more reasons than disobeying an order, which is why I’d like you to stay. Officially you’re not working this case with us, just listening in and adding insight when you can. Got it?”

A broad smile spread up my cheeks. “Got it. Thank you, Chandler. Now get to what you and Cas found yesterday.”

Chandler massaged his temples with both thumbs. “There weren’t any overlaps between people in the Smokies and here. So that was a dead end.” With regret in his eyes, he pursed his lips into a thin line. “It was a good idea though.”

“People can change their names,” I said to myself. “What’s something that he wouldn’t think to change?” A puff of dust floated up as I pushed off the old chair to pace. “Hair color, eye color—heck, even his build could be altered.” Glancing at the door, which Cas had thankfully vacated, I nonchalantly eased in that direction. “What if he had prescriptions?” The lock clicked once, twice, and a third time. Turning back to the two men, I found Chandler glaring. “I lasted a whole three minutes without locking them. It’s a slow process, okay?”

“What about prescriptions?” Cas asked, pulling my focus to where he sat in front of the fireplace, lighting a match. A warmth no fire could offer swept through my body at his actions. Despite Chandler's snide remark, Cas was lighting the fire for me.

“Well,” I said, trying to focus back on the case, “that’s one thing you could track easily, right? If someone was in that area during the time of the abductions and are now getting their prescriptions filled here?” At their lack of response, I spun to do another lap around the room. “What else did y'all figure out without me?”

Chandler stretched his arms overhead and rested his head along the back of the couch. “We think he’s getting these women away from everyone by acting hurt or needing their help in some way. It’s the only thing we can come up with that would make them take a chance in walking away with a stranger.”

“Unless it was a woman,” I said under my breath.

“There’s no way—” Chandler started to protest.

“Not just a woman. What if it was a killing team? A mananda woman. It sounds crazy, but maybe that’s how they can lure these women away.”

Chandler shook his head. “I like the prescription angle. I’ll look into that if HIPAA doesn’t stop us, but the thought of a female accomplice is a little farfetched. Men like this hunt alone. They can’t function in a normal relationship. The odds are so slim it’s not worth the staff hours to bring up that theory to my boss.”

I nodded in agreement.

“As I went through the notes yesterday, I started a basic profile.” My feet paused as I turned my full focus to Chandler. “Midthirties white male, inferiority complex, manipulative, average-looking, stalking tendencies. Will probably drive a sensible, late-model car or van, but not one that will stand out in a parking lot as being out of place.”

The note in my pocket burned through my coat and seared my skin. I had to show them. Who knew, maybe the handwriting could be of use with refining the profile—which would be huge, considering the current profile described half of the millions of visitors who poured through the park on a yearly basis.

“I think—” I started, but was cut off by Chandler’s musings.

“You said women were emotional, so they react on emotions. Like with you last night, you went against your better judgment because you were emotionally focused. Never thought about it from the woman’s perspective.”

Picking up where he was going with the line of thought, I added, “To pull these women away from the safety of other visitors, to get them to follow him somewhere more secluded, they were reacting on emotion. Like someone hurt, or maybe even him saying he needed help.” Mentally, I flipped through all the pictures from each case. “They were all mothers, which means they would be more emotionally inclined to help if someone was hurt or lost or—”

“A kid,” Cas said, drawing our attention to where he stood looking out the window. “Most mothers have that maternal instinct, and it doesn’t stop with just their kid. What if he’s saying his kid is hurt, or lost, or needs a woman’s help.”

We all sat in silence, absorbing what that meant about the guy. I didn’t miss the fact that he said most mothers, not all mothers. Guess that meant he wouldn’t lump his mother into that category.

“He must watch them for days before he abducts them. Fucking patient bastard is waiting until the exact moment when he can get them alone,” Chandler seethed. His large hands balled into tight fists at his side.

I cringed.

“What?” Cas asked, his intense focus back on me.

“So, um, well….” I cleared my throat and stepped toward the warm fire to ward off the chill that had sunk in. “First, you two can’t get mad. I’ve had a bizarre day, and I didn’t know how to react.”

Their eyes flicked to each other, then back to me.

“Hell fucking no, we aren’t promising that,” Chandler blurted out. “Out with it, Birdie.”

Both men inched closer, boxing me in with their massive frames.

Not meeting their eyes, I unzipped the jacket pocket and withdrew the note. “This was found on my truck today.”

Peering up through my lashes, I found both men studying the pink and red hearts decorating the front of the card with narrowed eyes.

“Turn it over,” Cas ordered in a tone that sent a shiver down my spine.

Note to self: never get on his bad side.

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